In Hinduism, “upasana” is the word given for the practice of idol worship. It is a far cry from the Christian dogma of Exodus 20:3: “You shall have no other gods before me.”
Whether or not you confess to a belief in God — be it a big man in the sky with a long white beard or the divinity of Wordsworth’s “waters, rolling from their mountain-springs” — as Americans, the majority of us live in an unashamedly polytheistic landscape of reality TV stars and professional athletes on trial. Some of our idols are worthy of our attention, and some are not. Yet those who aspire to the title of “hero,” even within the realm of pop culture, dare to do what most of us cannot or will not do, because we lack the gift, or the courage. They charge toward an impossible brass ring that hangs above a moat full of hungry crocodiles. When they succeed, we succeed. Or at least that’s how I felt about Dimebag Darrell.
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